


Home

by Braincoins



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Home, Spoilers, pining Allura, prompt, shallura sundays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:17:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8867257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: Sometimes home isn't a place.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shallura Sundays 2nd prompt: Home. Not quite as literal as the last time. 
> 
> Takes place during season 1.  
> ============================

            The first time she saw him, he was an alien threat. She used her attack on Lance as a way to gauge that threat, and possibly keep it at bay. He wasn’t the only alien, but he was the largest, the one that seemed most likely to be dangerous at first glance. She had one of their own as a hostage, so hopefully he’d stay away from her.

            She couldn’t have known then how quickly it would all change.

            Her father, gone. Her planet, gone. No one and nothing left of home but Coran, the mice, the ship, and the lions. And vengeance upon the vile creature who had stolen so much. It was the first connection she’d shared with Shiro: Zarkon, and the desire to right the wrongs done to them at his hands.

            It was obvious he was the leader of the group: they deferred to him, they listened to him, and Hunk even hid behind him. Shiro stepped in to settle disputes, he decided things, and they obeyed. There was no one else to be the Black Lion’s paladin, but she worried. She had to trust that this Black Paladin would not be like the last, and she knew nothing about him or his people. She was not good at blind faith. Not anymore. She had no choice though. He – and the others with him – were all she had.

            She watched them all at first, but none more closely than Shiro. She was impressed with his dedication and martial readiness, but she worried about it as well. So ready and willing to fight; would he turn against her the way Zarkon had turned on her father? But there was a gentleness to him as well, a… restraint. Willing to fight, yes, but not if there was another way. That was what she began to see in him. It was reassuring.

            She wasn’t aware when she first started watching him for other reasons. The other paladins wore looser clothing, for the most part, but Shiro’s clothes did nothing to hide every muscle. At first she’d considered it a warning, a display of power. Hearing the story of his crash-landing on Earth, his reunion with Keith and meeting the other paladins, she came to understand that his outfit was what had been at hand. He was making do with too-tight clothing, not trying to show off.

            Still, watching him move in those clothes was starting to become distracting. She could see the way his body worked, how the muscles shifted and flowed. She had to tear her eyes away sometimes, and she knew Coran had caught her staring more than once. But Shiro in his armor wasn’t much better. He looked so dashing, so noble, and she had a weakness for men in uniform.

            Getting to know him, as she had to, only made it worse. He always wanted to know more, and it wasn’t always about strategizing and knowing what resources he had to hand. He was curious about Altea, about the ship, about the lions, about her. What had started with appreciation for his wanting to know about her people and lost home had turned into being flattered by his attention and willingness to spend hours listening to her.

            And sometimes she did ramble on. She missed her home, and she tried not to think of the fact that she was a princess of no people on a ship of no nation. There was no home berth for the Castle now. So, given the opportunity, she would talk about Altea ceaselessly. He seemed to delight in giving her those opportunities. And talk about the landscapes and festivals and traditions of her home would inevitably give way to reminiscing about her memories of them. When she laughed, he would laugh, too, and it was like watching the stars coming out at night to see his dark eyes twinkle with merriment. And when her memories were sad, he would rest a hand on her shoulder and apologize as if it were his fault.

            He was considerate and kind and brave and it was harder to resist than to let go and fall. She resisted anyway. They were at war. This was no time for foolishness. And, despite it all, part of her still feared betrayal. To the rest of the universe, Zarkon’s rise to power had been ten thousand years ago, but to her, it was a fresh wound, a scar not yet healed. Shiro was the Black Paladin now. She had to be careful.

            She couldn’t push him away. She had to keep him close. She needed the Black Paladin to trust her, to be loyal to her. She couldn’t let it all happen again. And if it meant more time with his smile and his laugh, then so be it. She could enjoy his company without giving in to her curiosity about what it would feel like to be held in his arms or to kiss his lips. It wasn’t easy, but she could do it. She had to.

            She hadn’t stopped to reconsider his position in her heart. He had started as an alien threat. Then he had become an ally, then a friend. It wasn’t until the mission aboard the Galra ship, at the transportation hub, that she realized it, and nearly too late. The sentries were breaking through, and he was trying to weld the door shut. “I’m not leaving you!” he’d shouted, and there was a relief that flooded her veins hearing it, just for a second. And that was when she’d realized.

            It was important that he was safe, because he was the leader of Team Voltron. He was the Black Paladin; there would be no Voltron without him, and thus no way to save the universe. Zarkon would get exactly what he wanted. That couldn’t be allowed to happen.

            But it was in that moment that she realized Shiro wasn’t some alien ally to her any longer. It was with him that she felt safe, warm, and accepted. The relief of hearing him say he would not abandon her sharpened her vision as surely as the lack of juniberry fragrance had tipped her back into reality when her father’s AI had been corrupted. Except, rather than destroying her vision of home, it showed her exactly where it was.

            She had to do anything and everything she could to protect the only home she had left, even if it meant giving it up. It took more strength to will herself into action than it did to throw him into the pod. And as they took hold of her, she watched him escape their clutches. She’d saved her home, her father’s legacy, and the universe, all at once.

            She still wanted vengeance. She still wanted justice. But she would take pride in knowing she’d denied Zarkon the chance to destroy her home a second time. He was safe, for now.


End file.
